Mist Warrior (55 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Loch

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Mist Warrior
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Now
,
he finally possessed what was his, what he had sought for so long, what nearly destroyed him heart and soul. The black demon within him faded
,
leaving only agonizing grief in its wake.


Branan,

Catriona's voice cut through him. He leaped to his feet and rushed to her side. But horror possessed him as his gaze fell on the terrible bruise and the memory surged forward as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Nay! This could not be! He could not lose
Catriona
, not like this. It w
as all worthless without her. Branan
carefully pulled her into his arms
,
but despite his caution
,
she gasped in pain and went limp against him.

Terror sunk it's claws into his soul. He threw his head back and roared his agony.

****

Branan sat with his brat wrapped tightly around his shoulders, shaking with fever-chills.


Branan,

Beth said
,
feeling his forehead.

Damnation
,
if you do not get some rest, this fever will kill you.

He shook his head stubbornly, holding tighter to Catriona's hand. It had been a full day and night and she had not yet returned to consciousness.

I'll will ken if she will live or die. If she dies
,
then I will lay by her side and let the fever claim me.

Branan
wondered how this could be, how he could win the battle
,
but still lose everything.


She won't die,

Beth said
,
but he heard the tears in her voice.

She's too damn stubborn.


How are the others?


The same.

They had found
Greystoke
cut down before the door to his lady's solar. He bore wounds that by all rights should have been mortal
,
but he stubbornly clung to life. Gavin and Jamie also fought the blood fever. It was as if Catriona's soul kept death's specter at bay, as if they all waited to learn of her fate. If she fell, death would run rampant through the keep
,
claiming more souls than it had a right to.

A soft knock sounded at the door and Duguald entered. He too had been wounded but fared far better than Branan.


How was Penrith?

Branan asked as Duguald entered.


Under control. We excused the staff still loyal to Strickland and replaced the guard with mo
re mercenaries. Edmund brings the keep
to heel under your banner.


Thank ye, U
ncle.


The lassie...?


We doona ken what her fate shall be.

Duguald sighed softly.

Branan, while at Penrith, we found something for ye. Something important.

He frowned looking up at Duguald.

What mean ye?

Duguald handed
him a small box. Branan’s scowl deepened
as he studied it, it looked like MacTavish wood work and bore his father's crest.


On the bottom,

Duguald said,

is your father's mark. I believe he made it fer yer mother. Even without his mark, I ken his work when I see it.

There was no obvious latch
,
but Branan knew well the MacTavish talent for hiding locks. He felt along the bottom and found the catch. With a small click it released.

Duguald turned to leave.


Nay, U
ncle, stay please.

Branan
gazed up at him.

Ye are my family. I'd not have become the man I am without ye.

Duguald returned and gripped his shoulder tightly.

naramond">Branan drew a deep breath and opened the box. He saw a folded parchment with his name on it, the ink faded with age. With a shaking hand he opened it.

My dearest Branan,

My beloved son. Here is your true legacy.

Your loving mother.

Tears blurring his eyes, Branan
peered into the box. Inside, nestled in green silk
,
he saw two gold rings. One was larger as if made for a man, the other smaller – a woman's ring.


Their wedding rings,

he choked. Duguald's grip tightened on his shoulder. He looked up and saw his uncle's eyes misted with unshed tears.

Branan
turned his attention back to the rings. The man's ring bore an engraved thistle. He removed it from the box and placed it on his finger. It fit perfectly.

The woman's ring also bore the thistle
,
but a purple amethyst graced the flower an
d a green emerald it's stem. A
tear
trickled down Branan’s cheek
and he took Catriona's left hand, gently placing the ring on her finger. He twisted it slightly to make certain it was straight.

She groaned softly.

Branan's heart threatened to stop.

Catriona?

When she didn't respond, he gently twisted the ring again.

Catriona?

She moaned and her eyes fluttered open.

His heart nearly sang
,
but he brutally reined it in. His mother had been conscious a few short hours before death claimed her.


Branan?

Catriona
whispered struggling to focus on him.

What happened?


aramond">Wpan>
David struck ye a grievous blow.


My head

.


Aye.

Branan
watched her closely
,
not daring to hope.


And you fear...nay Branan. I will not die.

He prayed she spoke the truth.

Her hand reached for him and caressed his face
,
but she sucked in her breath.

Branan, you are fevered.


Aye, but I willna leave your side.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fear lunged within him. But she opened them again and tugged on his hand.

Then you shall rest here, with me. We will recover together.

Duguald released his shoulder, smiling broadly.

Aye, laddie, see to yer bonnie lass.

He turned and strode from the room, closing the door behind him.

 

Epilogue

 

 

Six Months Later

 


Branan, are you sure you want to do this?

Catriona asked worriedly as she fought to keep up with him. Her belly was becoming cumbersome with Branan's growing babe. She paused for a moment, trying to catch her breath and received a good kick in the ribs for her efforts.
arh him. Her/font>


I told ye,

Branan said gently
,
as he backtracked and took her hand.

Ye dinna have to come with me.

Catriona
rolled her eyes at him and he helped her over a rough part of the trail.

The overgrown path turned slightly and Catriona's gaze locked on the reason for their journey. Her mouth went dry
,
as she stared at two weathered headstones. Branan led her forward, his stride resolute
,
but his face was pale and his jaw set too tightly for her liking.


Branan


He shook his head.

Ye ken I've put this off for too long.

She sighed and said nothing more.

They stopped before the headstones and Catriona felt tears prick her eyes. Branan released her and knelt before them, resting a handful of flowers on his mother's grave.

Catriona also carried flowers, both of them white roses
,
which she had cut from the gardens of Penrith. Branan helped her kneel. She placed one rose on Raina's grave then placed the second on Raulf's.


Thank you both,

she whispered.

For the gift of your son.

Branan helped her regain her feet. She stood still for a moment, her breath evading her, her hands supporting her swollen belly.


Are ye all right?

Branan asked, his arms moving to encircle her
from behind
. He placed one hand on her belly.

Again the child kicked – hard.

Catriona gasped and na spaBranan's eyes widened.

Glory, lass.


Our babe does not enjoy so much activity.

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